Steamsworn (Steamborn Series Book 3) (5 page)

“Try the other!” he shouted over a gust of wind.

Alice continued moving the pod until the barrel hung over the gap in the platform. She cranked forward on the vertical mechanism, and the barrel swung down. She reversed the movement, and it slowly rose again. At all times she could see the crosshairs mounted to a mirror. It was like a scope she’d seen at Festival once that would let you see around corners.

“Come on out,” Smith said. “It still needs to be test fired, but that is not for today. The Midstream folks are going to check the welds and bolts before then.”

Alice climbed out. “That’s quite a view.”

“I half expected a scream, or something, when you realized the floor was glass too,” Smith said.

“Please,” Mary said, “that girl’s not all panicky like you tinkers. Be reasonable.”

Smith laughed slowly as he closed the hatch and threw the bolt. “Alright, alright, let me check in with the Midstreamers, and then we can hit the skies.”

T
he crawler rolled
into a large stable on the outskirts of Dauschen. The guards had been somewhat suspicious, but apparently they’d had “defectors” from Bollwerk join their cause over the past weeks, given shelter in exchange for intel. Jacob was surprised at how fast they were waved through the gates.

Jacob figured the other defectors had been the spies, which made him wonder just how many spies were out there. Not only from Bollwerk, but how many spies came from Ancora or even Belldorn? Using Archibald’s network as a gauge, the potential was insane. It was little wonder most cities put spies to death.

“Keep your leg hidden,” Charles said as he glanced back at Jacob. “I won’t say it’s impossible for a Biomech to defect from Bollwerk, but it’s unlikely. There were some in the last group, so let’s not risk drawing attention to it.”

Jacob nodded and checked the thick socks beneath his denim pants. They were plenty high to conceal the leg, even when he was sitting down. “It’s kind of annoying not being able to tell when your socks are falling down.”

Charles smiled and pulled one of the trunks to the edge of the crawler. “You’ll get used to it. Everyone does.”

“I need those clips to hold them up, like my dad used to wear.”

“Sock garters?” Samuel asked as he snapped a saddlebag closed and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Don’t laugh,” Jacob said. “That’s not very nice.”

Samuel chuckled and shook his head. “No disrespect, kid. I’ve only ever seen old men like Charles with them.”

“Are they not part of your uniform?” Drakkar asked. “I am quite certain the Spider Knights all wear them beneath their greaves.”

“He’s got you there,” Charles said. “You’re looking older by the minute.”

“That’s different.”

“I’m quite sure it’s not,” Charles said as he cracked open one of the trunks. “Jacob, grab the
rope
, would you?”

Cedar filled his nose, wafting from the trunk with the carefully folded leathers. Jacob nodded. He slid two of the thin coils over his shoulder. It wasn’t rope at all, he knew, it was a fuse they’d use to synchronize the bombs. Charles thought they could work on it a bit without raising suspicions. It was easy to hide the canisters in a saddlebag, and the coil looked like a thin rope from a distance. The blasting powder would be harder to explain away if anyone searched Drakkar’s saddlebag.

“Is it safe to leave the crawler here?” Jacob asked.

Drakkar held up a thick brass cog and smiled. “It will not move without this transfer. I doubt it will be scavenged for parts. I suspect thieves will be put to death without delay in the current climate.”

Jacob made a mental note not to try pickpocketing anyone. If he was going to get killed, it was going to be for a better reason than that.

“Let’s move,” Charles said, and they all followed him toward the back of the building, past the Walkers curled up in the far corner of the stables and out into a field of tents.

“They’re huge,” Jacob said. He eyed the house-sized tents. Massive cables stretched across the field, leaving only a narrow road between the canvas shelters. At a glance, it looked to be four rows, each six tents deep. “You could fit the entire Square in one of those.”

“Not quite,” Samuel said, “but they
are
big.”

“There,” Charles said as they passed the second row. Jacob adjusted his backpack and the coils on his shoulder while he followed the old man.

“It stinks,” Jacob said.

“Probably the latrines,” Charles said. “They won’t have plumbing in the camp. You’ll get used to it.”

Jacob frowned at the sharp, pungent odor and couldn’t imagine how anyone could get used to that.

“Where are we heading?” Samuel asked.

“The far tent,” Drakkar said. “Look at the red flag.”

Jacob found it flapping above the soiled tan canvas amid a sea of flags. A black octagon framed in red snapped and rippled in the wind. “What is it?”

Drakkar leaned in close to Jacob and whispered, “Steamsworn. It is an old flag, a very old flag, before the fist.”

“It’s the first flag of Bollwerk, as a matter of fact,” Charles said. “From the times of the alliance. The defectors come from a wide range of tribes and cities, all with their own flags. I doubt that old flag will raise suspicions when it’s all but lost among so many others.”

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the edge of the tent flap, and Samuel smiled at the giant of a man who pulled it open.

“Welcome, brothers,” the man said.

“Clark, was it?” Charles asked.

“Yes, it’s good to see you after so many years.”

Jacob didn’t think it had really been years. In fact, he was pretty sure he recognized the Biomech from Bollwerk.

“It’s safe here,” Clark said, letting the tent flap fall closed. “We have men in the three surrounding tents and an alternating lookout.”

“Good,” Charles said. “Do you have a dry place to hold our saddlebags?”

“Anywhere you’d like. We patched what few leaks the tent had. The only opening now is for the fire.”

Charles frowned. “We’ll need to stay away from that too.”

Clark raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “The last patrol came by only ten minutes ago. You probably have an hour if you want to get some work done.”

Charles nodded and pointed to the far corner of the tent, past the rows of cots, somewhat shadowed behind a large bundle of shelves. Jacob followed the old tinker and sighed when the weight of the coils and his backpack lifted from his shoulders.

*     *     *

“How is this
any different from gunpowder?” Jacob asked. He tapped the funnel to clear it of the stray grains. He handed the metal canister off to Samuel and started measuring the next batch of white powder.

“The blast wave is almost twice as fast,” Charles said. “I knew a man who tried to craft a cartridge out of it for a small handgun.”

“I suspect ‘knew’ is the operative word there,” Drakkar said as he glanced back from his post by the shelves.

“You aren’t wrong,” Charles said. “Idiot was holding the gun for the first test fire. It took half his …” He trailed off and looked up at Jacob. “It killed him.”

“Must have been bad if you’re not telling us the rest,” Samuel said.

“It was. It was very bad.”

Charles ran a clear gel around a gray metal cap and handed it to Jacob. He affixed it to the canister, leaving a curved stretch of blasting cord exposed that made the entire assembly look like a mug more than a bomb.

“So, what could one of these things do?” Samuel asked. He leaned forward and slid the bomb into a satchel of completed canisters.

“They’re shaped,” Charles said, “so the blast is concentrated. Whatever’s beneath it—iron, stone, or steel—won’t be there afterwards. Four of them would be enough to cut down a watchtower.”

Samuel’s deft movements suddenly slowed to a very great degree. He turned his head and stared at the middle of the tent. Jacob turned to follow his gaze. The fire was larger in tent’s center, giving them heat but also providing them an ignition that was frighteningly close to the bombs.

“It’s fine,” Charles said.

Jacob saw Samuel shiver out of the corner of his eye before the Spider Knight turned back to Charles and said, “I hope you’re right, old man.”

*     *     *

It was Clark
who woke them the next morning. “First patrol is past. If you hurry, we can be out of here by the time the second comes.”

Jacob blinked and looked at the man crouched down, whispering to Charles.

“Good,” Charles said. “Samuel, up!”

He slapped Samuel on the chest and the Spider Knight bolted up, reaching for a sword he didn’t have at his waist. Samuel looked wide awake until he finished taking in his surroundings. Then he looked dead tired again. “I hate sleeping on cots.”

Jacob agreed. His back ached when he sat up and put his feet on the floor.

“Get dressed,” Charles said. “We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

Samuel groaned and dragged his light leather armor out from under the cot. He’d left the heavier armor of the Spider Knights hidden in the crawler.

Jacob pulled out his vest and slid it on. He was still wearing the same denim pants from the day before. “I’m glad we packed everything up last night.”

Charles nodded.

“Where’s Drakkar?”

The Cave Guardian stepped out from behind the shelves at the edge of the tent, a saddlebag over either shoulder. “I am here. Everything is ready, Charles.”

“Good, good. Let’s get out of here.”

*     *     *

Clark had told
them the safe house wasn’t far, but Charles was surprised when they were walking into a modest two-story home after a brief ten-minute walk. Charles recognized the two Steamsworn inside from their first trip to Dauschen.

“No issues since you arrived?” Charles asked.

The short, black-haired woman shook her head. “Not a one.” Her name slipped his mind, but after fumbling after it for a bit, he remembered it was Lottie.

“Unless you count that awful latrine,” the man said as he took the saddlebags from Drakkar.

“It
was
pretty rank,” Samuel said. He took a deep breath. “Not like here. What’s that smell?”

“Cookies,” Lottie said with a smile.

“You baked cookies?” Samuel asked.

She shook her head. “What? I’m the woman, so I do the cooking? Gods, you must be from Ancora.”

Samuel stared at her and blinked, clearly at a loss for words.

“Lottie, leave the poor kid alone,” the man said. He extended his hand to Samuel. He wasn’t as dark-skinned as Drakkar, but he was certainly not as pale as most Ancorans. “I’m Morgan.”

Lottie let out a low laugh and brushed a lock of hair over her shoulder. She looked like the kind of woman who spent too much time in the bars, and not the friendly establishments either. She was the kind of woman Charles liked to have on his side in a brawl.

“It’s good to see you both again,” Charles said. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk much on the road here.”

“Think nothing of it,” Lottie said. “We’re spies. Too much communication could compromise us. The Tail Swords were … unfortunate.”

Charles nodded and glanced back at the door. It was closed, and Clark leaned against it. “Did you all serve together?”